


Wild Tigers I Have Known

by sendthewolves



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Noir, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sendthewolves/pseuds/sendthewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt Film Noir: Femme fatale!Bela comes to Private Investigator!Jo for help. I just want them smoking cigarettes, drinking whiskey, and having sex on Jo's desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Tigers I Have Known

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [kiwiana](http://kiwiana.livejournal.com) for the beta!

"I need a favor," Bela says, and Jo looks up from the paper in front of her. Bela is no more than a silhouette in the doorway, Jo's desk lamp too dull to chase away the shadows, but Jo would recognize that accent anywhere. 

"Is that so?" she says, leaning back in her chair. The springs squeak in protest, cheap piece of junk. "I don't recall owing you one." 

"Perhaps," Bela saunters closer, heels clicking on the dusty floor. She looks good, now she's reached the light; she slips off her coat and tosses it over the back of the spare chair, reveling a sleek black dress. Jo can't help noticing the way it hugs her curves. "Or perhaps not yet."

"Still talking in riddles?" Jo says, feigning boredom. Her interest is certainly piqued - but this is Bela, who operates entirely in lies and half-truths. 

"Well, if you're not interested," Bela reaches for her coat. It's a bluff, and Jo knows it, but she can't stop herself. 

"Wait." A smile spreads across Bela's face, somewhere between the cat that got the cream and a wolf that's tasted blood. "You've got two minutes to convince me. If you're planning on lying to me, just remember - I know a lot of people who would pay a pretty penny for your whereabouts. " 

"Turning snitch, Jo? Is business that bad?" 

"Hardly, but I'd make an exception for you, sweetheart," she gestures for Bela to sit, sick of looking up at her and determined not to rise herself. Bela makes a display of artfully crossing her legs, giving Jo a glimpse of creamy thigh above the line of her stockings. 

"Now, now, you want to hear this." Bela says. She places her purse on Jo's desk and when she opens it to pull out her silver cigarette case Jo sees the glint of a revolver. Bela pulls out two cigarettes between her long, slim fingers. Jo knows intimately just what Bela can do with those hands; equally capable of lightening your pockets as leaving you wrung out from pleasure. 

Jo takes the cigarette Bela offers her, leaning forward to light it from the match between Bela's thumb and forefinger. She inhales deeply and feels calmed. Bela's presence always seems to throw her off balance. 

"You were saying?" Jo asks, watching smoke curl from between Bela's lips. 

"Not going to offer me a drink?" Bela replies. "You're hardly a gracious hostess." 

"We can't all run in those high society circles you so love to con," Jo says, but she pulls out the flask she keeps in the bottom drawer. There are glasses in her office, but damned if she knows where. Bela doesn't seem to mind anyway, simply unscrews the cap and takes a long swallow. Jo can't help smirking when Bela winces at the burn of the whiskey. 

"And we can't all have been raised by bootleggers and had our taste buds burned off by moonshine," Bela says. "That is simply vile." 

She takes another sip anyway, smaller this time. Jo shrugs and takes another drag of her cigarette, watching the ripple of Bela's slender throat. 

Bela catches her wandering eye and the corner of her mouth curls up slightly as she runs an appraising gaze over Jo, making Jo want to pull the brim of her fedora lower to hide the flush she feels burning her cheeks. 

Jo holds out her hand for the flask and Bela hands it over, fingers brushing lightly against Jo's. 

"Well?" Jo demands, after taking a grateful swallow of cheap whiskey. It's embarrassing that Bela can still get to her like this. Jo knows so much better. 

"I've heard things," Bela says, putting out her cigarette in Jo's overflowing ashtray. "About what happened to you father." 

Jo swallows down the lump she feels in her throat, says, "What kind of things?" as nonchalantly as she can. 

"That it wasn't the cops that shot him." Jo's heart jumps into her throat. She wishes the flask in her hand was a gun, heavy and reassuring. 

"Then who did?" 

Bela shrugs, a strangely inelegant gesture for her. 

"That's all I've got, I'm afraid. The source of that little tidbit and I are hardly friendly, but if you want to know more I can give you her name." 

"Of course I want to know," Jo snaps, all her limbs suddenly full of coiled tension. 

"Uh uh," Bela waves a finger at her. "I told you, I need a favor." 

Jo's on her feet instantly. Fueled by rage, she leans over the desk so she's looming over Bela. "You're playing a dangerous game, lady. Don't try me, not about this." 

Bela meets her gaze, both calm and defiant at once. "Oh please," she says. "I'll tell you in good time, but this is supposed to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Sit down, and let's talk like the reasonable adults we claim to be." 

Jo inhales sharply, turns away for a moment and forces herself to calm down. She doesn't sit though, instead pacing the short length of the office. Bela turns in her chair and watches her for a long moment before Jo finally stops and perches on the corner of the desk so she's looking down at Bela. 

"Talk." 

"The Winchesters," Bela says. "I understand that you're acquainted with them." 

"Maybe," Jo says cautiously."Why?" 

"They're in possession of something I need. Unfortunately, they've also fallen completely off the map." 

"You're wasting your time," Jo says. "I don't know where Sam and Dean are-" 

"I was under the impression that finding people who don't want to be found is what you do," Bela interrupts. 

"And," Jo continues, ignoring her. "If I did, I wouldn't help you steal from them." 

"Pathetic," Bela says, narrowing her eyes. "Here I am, offering you the lead that just might lead you to the truth about your father's killer, and you're too worried about misplaced loyalty. Do you really think those boys would spare you a thought if the situation were reversed?" 

"Maybe not," Jo says quietly. "But that's my problem, not yours." 

"Pathetic," Bela repeats. She pushes back the chair and stands, gathering her things together. 

Jo grabs her wrist when Bela turns to go, says, "Wait." 

"What?" Bela snaps impatiently and Jo uses her grip on Bela's wrist to pull her closer, pressing her lips to Bela's.

Considering Bela had been about to storm out of Jo's life again, she relaxes into the kiss easily, hands moving to Jo's hips, warm even through the pinstriped fabric of her trousers. 

Jo's releases Bela's wrist, instead tangling her fingers in Bela's perfectly pinned hair, as Bela pulls Jo closer, simultaneously walking her backwards until Jo's forced to sprawl out on the desk. Something sticks uncomfortably into her back but she pays it no mind, wrapping her legs around Bela's waist and urging her forward. 

She comes easily, crawling up on the desk so she's right on top of Jo, who runs her fingers along Bela's stockings; up and up until she finds smooth skin instead of silky fabric. Bela is already hot and wet between her legs when Jo slides her fingers past Bela's garter and under her slip. 

Bela sighs against Jo's neck when Jo rubs her thumb over her clit, presses two fingers inside her and Bela rocks her hips down on Jo's hand. Jo crooks her fingers just so; she knows where all Bela's sweet spots are and Bela moans, low and almost guttural, right beside Jo's ear. Her voice breaks when Jo adds a third finger, feeling Bela stretch and flutter around her hand. 

Jo feels a pulse of arousal hot between her own legs, and she bucks against Bela's thigh, desperate for any kind of friction. Bela lifts her head long enough to grin down at Jo, smug as always; like she thinks she's winning. Then Bela's slipping her hand down between them, rubbing Jo through her trousers, and pushing herself up and down on Jo's fingers, keeping with the rhythm Jo has set. 

Bela is soaking wet, all it takes is Jo flicking her thumb across her clit one final time to have her clenching tight, shaking and gasping, and the fingers that were working Jo towards orgasm stall, instead gripping Jo's thigh tight. 

For a long moment Bela just lays there, breathing heavily, her chest pressed up against Jo's so Jo can feel her heart pounding. Somewhere along the line Jo lost her fedora, her hair now loose and sticking to her sweat-damp skin. 

"Mmm," Bela says against Jo's throat. "That was just lovely." 

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Jo says, not bothering to hide her amusement. "How about returning the favor?" 

It's the wrong choice of words, of course. Bela laughs sharply. "I was under the impression that that's exactly what you were doing. If we stop now we can call it even." 

"You give me an unsubstantiated rumor, without telling me the source it came from, and call it a favor?" Jo says, suddenly irritated by Bela's weight trapping her on the desk. "Hardly seems worth what I just gave you." 

"Well, I might be convinced by another orgasm like that," Bela rolls onto her side, knocking Jo's flask and a pile of newspapers to the floor. Jo sits up, stretching out until her spine makes a satisfying crack. 

"Not on that damn desk again," Jo says. "Get on the chair." 

"Yes, sir," Bela says lightly mocking, but complying. She's always been amused by Jo's penchant for men's clothing. 

Jo reaches behind her, fumbling for the top drawer of her desk and the set of handcuffs she keeps there - not so legally borrowed from a cop who tried to take her in a few years ago. She slips the cuffs in her pocket before sliding off the desk and falling, as gracefully as she can manage, to her knees in front of Bela. 

She runs her hands up Bela's thighs, stroking softly before pushing them apart. Bela's fingers tangle in Jo's hair, tugging her exactly where she wants her. Jo lets her breath ghost over Bela's still sensitive snatch, feels a tremor run through her and grins, all teeth against Bela's inner thigh, before tonguing between Bela's folds. 

"Oh, yes," Bela breathes, arching her back when Jo licks inside her. The scent and taste of her is overwhelming, hot and heady as Jo licks and sucks with abandon, unable to stop slipping a hand down the front of her trousers and fingering herself roughly as she uses just her mouth to make Bela a moaning, trembling wreck. 

Jo comes on her own hand, rocking back and forth with her face buried between Bela's legs and Bela follows closely, twisting Jo's hair until it hurts. 

 

Jo doesn't let herself have as long as she'd like to come down, still leaning against Bela's legs she looks up, says, "Well? Tell me who I need to find." 

Bela sighs, sounding blissful and annoyed all at once, like she can't believe Jo's still harping on about this. Like it's something stupid and trivial, when this is the closest Jo's come to finding answers. 

"I'm not convinced," Bela says. "You seemed to enjoy yourself an awful-" Jo snaps one of the cuffs around Bela's wrist, the other to the arm of the chair. "-what do you think you're doing?" 

"You had your chance." Jo says, sitting back and watching Bela's expression turn guarded. "So now you tell me or I make a few phone calls and see who'll give me the highest price for you. I know a few mob bosses aren't too happy with you. Or maybe I'll just let the cops have you." 

"Ruthless," says Bela. "I didn't think you had it in you. I'm still not sure you do." 

Jo stands up, leaning over Bela so they're face to face, close enough to kiss. "Try me." 

Bela just looks at her for a long time, eyes scanning Jo's face and Jo tries to look as dangerous as possible. 

"Meg," Bela says finally. "Her name's Meg Masters. Now uncuff me." 

"You better not be lying to me," Jo says. She thinks Bela's telling the truth, but it's so hard to tell. 

"If I am then we can have another friendly catch-up. I have _so_ enjoyed this one," she smiles. "Well, some aspects more than others." 

"I will find you, you know," Jo says, moving back to the desk to retrieve the key. 

"I doubt it, but you won't need to." When Jo unlocks the cuffs Bela flexes her wrist as though it's been hours, and gets up and completely unabashedly rearranges her skirt and undergarments. 

She slips into her coat and lights a cigarette. Jo stands beside the mess of her desk, not sure what to say now she's got her way, so she just watches as Bela breezes out the door. 

"Until next time, darling," Bela calls behind her. 

Looking forward to it," Jo says - a little sardonically, a little genuine, but Bela is already gone.


End file.
